Christmas Cares
by EdwardWongHauPepiluTivriskyIV
Summary: Sometimes people celebrate the Holidays in their own way. Nymphadora Tonks finds some people enjoy their work enough to let it spill into the Holidays. Short Holiday piece. Merry Christmas!


'I don't understand why we have to work on Christmas Eve, especially in this box where Christmas spirit comes to die,' Nymphadora Tonks thought bitterly as she glared at the pile of work on her desk that she could've sworn grew higher if looked away and then looked back at. Tonks worked as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. Working in the field, where all the action was, was one of the main inspirations to train and obtain her position. In recent times, it was decided by "retired" Auror, Alastor Moody, to take care of the backlog of files: organizing, continuing and closing the cases contained therein. December 24th just so happened to be Tonks's turn to work on the backlog.

The backlog sat as a mass of paperwork in the back files for the longest time, until Moody decided it was time to take care of it…for the Aurors to work on it; it was unfair that EVERYONE didn't include everyone.

'Why can't Alastor realize the Holidays are a time of rest, a time to celebrate, a time to…. decorate.' Tonks shook out her hair and it became a mane of red, white and green streaks. Then, she looked around the office and frowned at the lack of decorations. Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the office. Brushing a bit of snow off of his broad shoulders, he looked down at his co-worker, who stared back at him with chin on stacked hands.

"Wotcher Kingsley," she greeted him.

"Good afternoon, Miss Tonks," he returned greeting and went over to the desk in the corner of the room. Retrieving a form, the Auror began to fill it out.

"Hey Kingsley, if I were to present Alastor with a gift, would it melt his cold, dead heart?" Tonks asked casually.

Shacklebolt chuckled. "I've been here for ten years and have not seen any Holiday spirit or gift-giving from the man. Some people find joy in their profession over festivities and holidays," he advised, continuing to fill out the form. Upon completion, Shacklebolt filed the form and walked to the door. "Happy Christmas," he wished with a small smile.

"Happy Christmas," she wished in return and he left. She returned to work. The following nine folders were completed cases and were stacked on a growing pile on the left side of the desk. The next file appeared to only need a confirmation of completion and closure. That file was placed in another stack on the left-side of the desk.

Nymphadora Tonks looked up as the doorknob turned and watched as Alastor Moody limped into the room. Bearing a prosthetic leg, the man's footsteps were quieter than they should be.

"Some of these are just going to need more time. There are pieces of information missing from some of the records and files seemed to have gotten mixed up within one another," Tonks babbled as Alastor looked at her. "I've attempted to make broad cate—"

"Quiet. I'm thinking," Moody stated succinctly, staring at a spot in the room. Nymphadora gave her superior a look and then proceeded to take a stack of files and move them to the far right side of the messy desk. "We need to archive closed files and keep open and continuing files here in the office to work on. Epiphaneus was supposed to ha…" Tonks mind began to wander. Tomorrow was Christmas and she was going to spend it with her parents. Her mother was causal about Christmas, but her father liked to go all-out. It would be great and she could pretend to not have any troubles for one day. …She didn't even know who Epiphaneus was.

"Send an owl to Conlan and see which method they went with for the Archival procedure," Moody commanded.

"How about we send the owl on Thursday; I'm pretty sure Conlan is away on Holiday," Tonks answered, making a note and charming it to remind whoever was on backlog duty to send an owl to Conlan.

"How do you know that?"

"Strong guess," Tonks shrugged.

"An assumption, eh," Moody smirked, thawing. "Alright, finish what you were working on and let's lock up." The look on Tonk's face blatantly expressed surprise. Alastor turned away. "Let's grab a drink at The Three Broomsticks."

Tonks made a theatrical gesture of organizing "nothing," stood up, grabbed her cloak and followed Alastor Moody out of the office. He locked up.

"Epiphaneus has scorched my last nerve; he says one thing and outright does another. He signed the—I have stories on the bum that span decades."

Tonks had a feeling she was going to hear all about Epiphaneus tonight and be able to point him out in a crowd a mile away.

"That's unfortunate," Tonks muttered… Kingsley Shaklebolt's words ran through her mind and she figured she'd provide her teacher company as he told stories. She'd learn a thing or two… and needed a double Fire-Whisky anyway.

Merry Christmas!


End file.
